Disclaimer: Hello, don’t sue me. I don’t own Digimon or anything remotely related to the topic except a few original characters and a certain plot idea to be implemented into this fic. As always, review or else I’ll torture you to death with really lame jokes about plastic army men.

DigitalWar:

Campaign II

The city was spread out below us like a map. If I had to choose one word to describe what I saw, it would be “big.” Huge in fact. Broad streets paved with large, flat stones held markets and shops that presented themselves like a farmer’s market.

Cotramon took the time to point out the palace to me. I would have guessed that it would be the biggest of the structures. We even got to fly over it. Apparently, the main tower held an oversized sundial that transports used to keep time. Dart told me that at night the numbers and the minutes would light up showing the evening time.

Miniature stadiums dotted the cityscape, which I later found out were gladiatorial arenas that were used for dueling. Made sense too; it’s better to duel off the streets than on them. I was also told that I would be tested in the arena closest to the palace.

It wasn’t long before Dart landed and we were on the ground again. Several burley guards were eyeing me as I limped off the landing pad. Cotramon was busy inspecting them, which sort of made me nervous.

He went through the dozen or so guards, interviewing them and carefully going over their orders. I came over to where Cotramon was speaking to the last guard, having dismissed all the others for being too suspicious. Isaac followed, trying to look as calm as possible.

“And you’ve been assigned to escort us to the palace?” Cotramon asked. He seemed to have trouble believing it. “Just who ordered that?”

I didn’t know what kind of Digimon he was. I only knew that he was tall, black and grim looking. He looked down at me and his expression changed to a smile. “Greetings,” he said, accenting the shift in his demeanor. “My name is Black, I’ve been assigned to be your body guard until you leave.”

“Under whose orders,” Cotramon asked again.

“Zhuqiaomon’s.”

Cotramon took his PIC out and dialed up his superior. Azulongmon answered impatiently. “Where are you? We’ve been waiting for far too long.”

“We’re at the landing pad now, sir. But I was wondering if you could put Zhuqiaomon through.” I heard shuffling on the other end. Azulongmon muttered to himself angrily, putting an unidentifiable voice over the phone.

“Yes.”

“Sir, did you assign an escort to us?”

“I did. Is there a problem with him?” Cotramon answered with a resigned no and the communicator shut off. He glared up at the Digimon, still studying him. In response, Black stood rock still and unblinking.

“You’re a bit on he short side for a BlackWarGreymon,” Cotramon said matter-of-factly. I didn’t think he was so short. At least seven feet tall and built like a tank. “Rank?”

“I’m a volunteer right now. But in the service I was a Captain.” His mouth hardly moved an inch, which served rather nicely to creep me out. All in all, I did not like this character. He knew it too. “I don’t think he likes me much.”

“He doesn’t like much of anyone,” Isaac retorted. “It’s got something to do with morals, I think.” I growled at him and he stopped speaking. A draconic form was good for at least one thing.

Black, after he had made his introduction, started a new line of conversation, which I’m thankful for. He seemed friendly enough, but so had my father. So while I could permit myself to join the talk, I would not trust him for all the gold on earth. Call it paranoia, but I think he was suffering from being a chronic idiot. Or at least he was psychologically unstable.

Presently, Cotramon was asking about his time in the service. “I knew a captain with your form,” he said. “His name was Miles. Kinda jerky but overall, he was tolerable.” Whoopty-do. “I’m not sure where he’s at now.”

“I never knew anyone by the name of Miles. But I do have some interesting stories to tell...” Black trailed off and stared into space. I took it that he as trying to remember a story or trying to find a more delicate way to tell it. “I was there when Drake was captured. Or at least I saw him leaving. If I’d known that that was his last walk, I’d have tried to stop him.”

“Hmm.” Isaac was interested and unable to not show it. A strange bit of history is something of a wonderment to him, I think. “Who was Drake,” he asked ignorantly. Black laughed at him.

“He doesn’t know who Drake was?” Disbelief.

I didn’t really care to know at that point, except that my father had mentioned him. Father? Oi… Now I was beginning to believe all this. It was still a far-off, distant hope that this was still just a dream. The dull ache in my shoulder however, had been telling otherwise since it happened.

As of now, I knew I had at least two. The so-called “demon” and the guy who I had this body before me. I had the feeling that the two were at odds, but that was just my nerves. And anyway, Black was still laughing at the fact that Isaac was ignorant.

“I’ve never met a soul anywhere,” he said, calming his voice a little, “that didn’t know who Drake was! How could you not know? I was sure that you would have been told by now.” He looked at Cotramon incredulously. “Shouldn’t you have told them?”

“How was I supposed to know this was going to happen? I was sent to kill him, not bring him back!” Cotramon was in a huff now. But he could have spared me the reminder.

I looked back at Isaac, who was standing patiently, waiting for his answer. Black noticed and took the liberty of supplying that answer. “DrakeAngemon was a hero of the Great War. He nearly defeated the Enemy in a duel, but was killed instead.”

“A duel?” Cotramon said that like it was something new for the history books. “I’d heard rumors of a duel, but you sound like you saw it for yourself.” Black nodded. “How is that possible?”

“I was one of the drones that was freed after the siege on Anshar.” He smiled benignly and continued. “There were very few drones that actually had minds of their own. I was one of them.”

“But I thought that you were there to see him be led away,” I said, beginning to show my distrust more and more. “Which is it? A drone or a captain?”

“Both. I was captured only days after I saw him leave—”

“—That was just before that area was destroyed, right?” Cotramon obviously had a knack for this sort of thing, but I blame his experience for that. “I see. Anyway go on. Those rumors really can’t be trusted. One says that the Enemy lost an eye.”

“He did lose an eye, and half his face.”

Isaac stepped back, a little disgusted at that point. “I still don’t get what was special about him, other than that he was in a duel.”

“Come and I shall tell you more,” Black told him, leading the way to the palace. We followed him, Dart taking off behind us. As we walked, Black continued his story, giving some rather graphic details of his encounters.

“…So you see, Isaac,” Tank (I decided to call him tank) said a block later. “Drake was the only Digimon to ever do any serious damage to the Enemy.” A slow look of understanding crossed Isaac’s face. “All I could possibly have done was scratched the surface of his armor.”

“I hadn’t ever seen the Enemy personally, but from what I know even a scratch like that takes a lot of strength.” Cotramon seemed impressed by our escort, but I couldn’t read his face for certain because I was still getting used to muzzles.

“He seemed rather interested in me,” I chimed in. Black looked back at me, not surprised at the statement. My temporary partner was dismayed at my bringing up the subject, however, I didn’t rightly care. “He wanted to talk to me on the flight over.”

“Of course he wanted to talk. You’re his son.”

“Meh.” I knew that already. It was like Dart said when we met: I’m the one who chooses my destiny, not genetics. So I wasn’t bothered by it as much as they expected. “Why does it matter?”

“Do you know how you were created?”

“Nope. And I don’t care either.” Why should I have cared? As far as I knew, it didn’t matter one bit and held no baring on my future. All I knew was that I had three fathers and one mother. And three of the four of them probably wanted me dead.

“You aren’t even curious?” Tank asked. “It’s a very interesting story. You might wish to know it soon.” I wasn’t in the slightest bit curious. And this line of conversation was beginning to annoy the crap out of me.

Isaac, who had taken a position beside me, didn’t seem interested either. He was more interested in his surroundings, understandably enough. I wasn’t much paying attention to the Tank myself. It was strange being surrounded by these creatures, all of which were stopping and staring at Isaac and myself.

I think they were staring because I had such a “famous” look. Bull, I thought to myself. They were staring at Isaac. He was human, so of course they were looking at him. Isaac was looking around like he was a tourist. I have to say he had good reason as well because I felt the same way. This world was strange to the both of us. Stupid paws.

I had tuned out the conversation going on between Black and Cotramon. Three fathers…I didn’t like that idea. One waking me up at four in the morning was bad enough. Three was unheard of. And two of them didn’t much care for me. The one though, he was different.

At least he sounded different. He was kind looking in my dream (as kind as he could have looked in that body, that is). Out of the three of them, he was decidedly the best of them. The only problem I could see with him was that he was dead.

He told me to talk to Zhuqiaomon… I didn’t even know who that was. And I was sure I didn’t want to find out. All I wanted to do was to take the test and get home. Why bother following the orders of a dead—eh? —mon. He would probably start haunting me if I didn’t at least give in that much.

I had to wonder what was so special about him though. I knew from what Cotramon had said that he was a Sovereign, but that was about it. From the way everyone talked about him, he seemed to be a crank, too. All together, not a pleasant mental picture. I would just have to do it anyway.

I glanced at the rest of them. They all seemed to be relatively peaceful and relaxed. The conversation sounded friendly enough—the thermodynamics of flying potato chips—and even Isaac had decided to join in. The words were clear as day, which was actually a change from the launch pad.

“Hey,” I called ahead to Cotramon. “Is it me or did it just get really quiet all of a sudden?” The others looked around quickly, noticing the deserted street at long last. “I know I’m knew here, but that doesn’t strike me as a good thing.”

The Tank looked tense to me, like Cotramon looked while he was trying to kill me. Cotramon, interestingly enough, looked exactly the same. As I was noticing all this, something else came to me. The quality of the air seemed to take a dive. It was almost as if… Now I was tense. Something had moved in the corner of my eye.

“CRIMSON CLAW!”

I rolled to the left and then to the right as two maroon arcs drove themselves into the ground where I had been standing only half a second ago. ”Damn blasted little bastard! That was my bad arm!”

I turned to the source of the attack. The others were all in various states of movement: Isaac was running for cover behind the Tank, who turned to shield him as well as he could. Cotramon had come up beside me prepared for battle.

“It’s Devidramon,” he said through clenched teeth. “And one with an apparently bad attitude too.” On that cue, it swooped down on us, swiping again with his monstrous claws.

“Two against one doesn’t sound bad,” I said, watching as it landed with a foul thud on the cobblestone path. Identification program online. What? Now that didn’t sound quite right. A female, monotone voice talking inside my head in the heat of battle wasn’t something that was readily needed right now.

Identification program activated: Devidramon. Attacks – Crimson Claw and Dark Gale. Champion level. Dark Dragon.

Not that I paid much attention. He was already charging us for a third round. And only one thing was on my mind: Kill the damn thing before he kills me. I dived forward out of the way and turned on the beast without thinking. “HELIOS FLARE!’

With the flames lit, I dashed toward him ready to clamp down as hard as I could with my jaws. I hit him from behind and bit down on one of his tails, nearly breaking all of my teeth. The shook me off and turned his sights on Cotramon, who had been pelting him with darkened fireballs.

“You are a traitor and must be destroyed along with the abomination.”

“That abomination is the Chosen one,” Cotramon shouted back. “The Sovereigns told me to bring him here! And that’s what I’m going to do. BLAZING FIRE!” I turned just in time to see Cotramon leap at the dark dragon’s face and ram one of his black spheres down its throat.

Cotramon kicked off its chest and landed perfectly five feet back toward me. I was on my feet again, working up the strength to attack again. When I did, I released it with everything I could. It served nothing, though. All I did was hurt myself instead. In the background I could hear Isaac shouting out, “How do I work this thing? Lord in Heaven!”

“Black button!” I don’t know who shouted that, and I don’t care. All I knew was that Cotramon was swiping at the Devidramon’s neck and getting thrown off into brick wall at every attempt.

“DINOMITE RUSH…” I tried again to push his legs out from under him. Still no luck. It was like trying to move a redwood and only being two inches tall. The Devidramon was at least twice as tall as the Tank and had a nearly complete range of vision due to its four eyes.

The only thing that my attack had accomplished was to turn his attention back to me. At least it gave my partner some time to recover, but I found myself being thrown into the ground repeatedly. Oddly enough, though, I didn’t think about that or the severe pain it caused. All I could see other than the monster trying to crush my ribcage, was Cotramon lying on the ground not moving.

I couldn’t think of anything else, except killing that damned Digimon and trying to help Cotramon. I tried once more to get it off me. “HELIOS FLARE.” I only mumbled it out, but the flames ignited just enough to burn the Devidramon’s foot.

Isaac was still shouting in the background, breaking his voice. “God! Give us a chance!” I wasn’t going to hear “Black button” again if Cotramon was unconscious. I knew that had something to do with Isaac’s Pic, but I didn’t know what. All I could do was try and repeat the instructions.

“Black button,” I croaked out. “Press the black button, curse you!” I don’t know weather Isaac was being stupid or brave, but all at once his form filled my field of vision. “Get back to Tank,” I muttered. “You’re in the way.”

“Black button,” Isaac said, and pressed it just as our foe’s foot came down.

EVOLUTION

“Heliomon!” I don’t know what happened. One moment I was watching a giant’s foot coming down on my face, then I was coming out of a literal fog almost triple the size that I used to be. Isaac stood under me looking up with a terrified expression.

I was still on four legs though, not that it mattered. All I wanted to do right now was end this. A deafening roar behind me told me that my engines were just coming to life and would be working at full in only a few moments. I stood up right, stretching wings that I didn’t know I had.

Instinctively I growled. The enemy took a step back, missing Cotramon by only a few inches. I took a step forward and he paced back. He I could see it in his eyes that he was going to attack.

Before he had a chance to open his mouth, my fore-claw was already shooting into his neck. “TAZER CLAW!” The claws shot out of my leg like miniature missiles, embedding themselves in his neck. He stuttered out something unintelligible. “Revolting piece of slime!” The wires connecting my claws and my arm/legs glowed brightly as electrical currents coursed their way through them.

The Devidramon was trying to claw at me, but had lost his muscle coordination and was only swinging blindly. Finally, he stopped moving, having been fried to death in a makeshift electric chair.

I retracted my claws and dropped to all fours again, exhausted. The body in front of me started to dissolve, not that I cared at that point. I was tired and wanted nothing more than to rest in a nice, soft bed. “Tank,” I said, calling the BlackWarGreymon over. “Pick up Cotramon and lets go.” This was not a good day for me, to say the least. I would hate, though, to think of how that dissolving guy felt.

“Right-e-oh,” he replied. Cotramon was swung over his shoulder unceremoniously, and a bit roughly from what I could tell. “Won’t the Sovereigns be impressed with you,” he whistled. “And we can make better time.” Without even warning me, he hefted Isaac onto my back between my two jet turbines.

I had the feeling I wanted to shake him off, but I was far too tired to do anything but get someplace to lay down. Isaac wasn’t nearly as fatigued as myself, and as such was full of questions. I told him to shove it up his tail pipe. Thankfully, it worked. He quieted down after a quick rumble from me and didn’t talk again for about twenty minutes.

Quite a few people were staring at me now. I didn’t think they’d ever seen anything like me before. And if they had, it must have been a long time ago. I found out from Tank, though that most of them hadn’t ever seen my form before and that those that had were all over five or six hundred years old. They were old, I thought.

About halfway through that twenty-minute walk, Cotramon woke up moaning. “Put me down!” he shouted once he realized that Black was carrying him. “This is such an undignified way for me to travel…” Tank laughed at him, but let him down anyway. The green one landed on his tail and then stood, grumbling and dusted his body off.

Even through my fatigue I found the energy to smirk a bit at his misfortune. Isaac laughed a bit too from on top of me and asked Cotramon if he were all right. Those two were becoming fast friends. And Tank was getting into the act as well with his stories and information.

My mind eventually turned back to that dream and the dead Digimon who had visited me. And of course, that started building my curiosity about Zhuqiaomon again. In turn, that led to me wondering about Azulongmon. He had been the one, of course, who had wanted me dead and sent the green one after me for just that end. I rolled my eyes, thinking of the fight in the cafeteria.

“Cotramon?” I said, surprised at the mechanical deepness of my voice. He looked at me, glad that I was speaking. “What are these Sovereigns like? You make ‘em sound like they’re old farts or something.” Cotramon looked at me, puzzled and asked what a fart was. Stupid Digimon.

“They aren’t as bad as they sound,” said he. “Let me think—Azulongmon is the strongest, I think, out of them.” He pulled out his Pic and called up a holographic display of a white, serpentine dragon. It looked vaguely oriental and entirely benign to me. “He, at one point, was a much more public figure. I don’t know what happened, but—eh—just stopped.” He sighed.

The image changed to one of a phoenix, glowing red and looking rather evil. “I take it that that’s Zhuqiaomon?” I asked, gesturing toward the display. “Doesn’t look as nice as the other, if you ask me.”

Tank interrupted at that time, looking directly at me. “Looks can be deceiving, Elijah. It’s been my experience that Zhuqiaomon is the ‘nicer’ out of both of them.” It made some bit of sense. After all, he had been the one who wanted me to be tested. And in any case, most cheerleaders are quite good looking, yet always have the worst attitudes.

“And you look like a hero,” Isaac told me, slapping his hand on my metal back. “Yet your as evil as they come!”

“Okay, that’s it.” At that point, I had tolerated Isaac enough. There was a certain, satisfying quality to the thud he made as he slid off my back and onto the cobblestone road. “The next time, I’ll sit on you too.” I did not even bother turning to face him and instead continued along at normal pace (or what I thought was a normal pace). Isaac was having trouble keeping pace with the others and me and it was Tank who finally forced me to slow down.

Unknowingly, I had dropped Isaac into a pile of muddy soil. When I saw him next I nearly laughed. I hadn’t noticed, but the air was extremely dry here and it had already zapped the moisture out of the mud on Isaac’s face and clothes, caking them to him and giving him the appearance of having scales.

“It’s a good look for him,” I told tank jokingly. Tank nodded and Cotramon inspected the mud-caked human. “Makes him blend into the scenery a bit better, not to mention the sidewalk.”

It was obvious that he was not exactly thrilled with me. His eyes were shooting daggers; sometimes it felt like they were literally. I could actually feel the anger pulsing off of him and it was starting to make me tense, as well as uncomfortable in some peculiar ways. “Alright,” I said, “Calm down, Isaac.”

“I just have two words for you, Eli.” His expression did not change as his lips moved and he held up our Pic. “Only two very important words. Black button.” I knew what he meant. He could devolve me with a flick of his thumb and he was just about ready.

I was thankful when the green one intervened, telling Isaac that he was going to have him change out of his jeans and T-shirt at the first opportunity. “Yeah,” he said, “You aren’t going to see the Sovereigns looking like that… unless they are already waiting for us. Oh boy.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out what the “oh boy” was about. My heart skipped a beat or two as we turned the next corner, and there stood the Sovereign’s palace. It was massive, looming, and not too inviting in my opinion. The stone walls surrounding it were at least as tall as Dart, and probably twice as thick, and then the keep itself was still more intimidating with its medieval weapons ports.

Tank, it looked like, was feeling the same way. He stopped short of the rest of us and just stared, blank rage etched on his face. He shook it off, however, and caught up with us in only a few paces. “I’ll never understand why Azulongmon chose to keep the Enemy’s palace intact.”

“I think it was sort of a trophy for him,” Cotramon replied, fearlessly striding through the double gates. “The slaves’ quarters were around the wall. Now it’s used for storage.”

Slaves… And I had almost fallen into his trap. “Whatever happened to the slaves, Cotramon?” I asked, hesitantly.

“Killed,” he answered, somewhat darkly. “I remember them. All of them were turned to drones—without mind or soul any more. Empty shells really.” So there was nothing that could have been done for them, it seemed. Then, for a moment, I saw the same rage I saw on Tank’s face—only this time it was conscious. “Come on,” Cotramon told us after a quiet moment or two. “We should get inside.” It looked like the bitterness still ran deep here.